nine2five 5 Morgan's Angels
by Marc Vun Kannon
Summary: The continuing adventure of Morgan Grimes, Hawaii's most celebrated almost-chef. It's humor, that's all. Just Humor. What about suspense? Oh all right, humor and suspense. And a bit of- Shut up!...Right.
1. First Night Blues

**A/N** I did lots of research before starting this, but then I met this guy named Quinn, and now I don't remember any of it. Sorry.

* * *

"_I'm with the NSA." _

"_I feel sorry for the both of you." _

"_Heaven."_

"_Mr. Grimes is wanted here in Washington."_

* * *

The first night was the hardest. Even though they'd only been married a few months, Chuck had gotten completely used to the experience of Sarah, _his_ Sarah, in his bed. The heat of her body, as he spooned up against her. The weight of her, as she lay her head on his chest and used him as her pillow on the good nights, and her comforter on the bad ones. The smell of her hair in either circumstance.

He was at rest when she was.

She was his bed partner in every sense of the word, but not tonight. As he lay sleepless, she was in Hawaii, the bad guys after her, his best friend in tow, no backup except two cannons, named Loose and Looser. Did she pack enough bullets? He tightened his grip on her pillow. How do the _real_ agents stand this?

"_I was just gonna do an hour on the bike, maybe some crunches with a protein shake chaser, especially if El's not gonna be home."_

Is that why Devon did it? To drive the fact of his aloneness at that moment as far away as he could get it? Chuck sighed. Probably not, the guy was awesome. He had his awesomeness to keep him company. Chuck was Captain Kryptonite. Totally not awesome.

In the comic books the hero didn't sleep either, but superheroes don't need to sleep, do they? That's why they're super. They had secret identities when they needed some downtime. Where was _his_ secret identity? They'd taken Charles Carmichael away from him, sent it flittering around the world like a ghost to lead the spookhunters a merry chase. In return, they'd given him what, 'Tough Guy'?

Then he realized he had it backward. _This_ was his secret identity. Crap.

Chuck flung his blankets aside and went into his kitchen. Four eggs and a glass of orange juice tasted better at this hour of night, or maybe his senses were still asleep. Cup in hand, he cruised by the window, showing himself to his detail outside to ease their concerns at this change in his routine. He turned on the TV, some news channel. No reports of volcanic eruptions in Hawaii so far. He hoped Morgan and Carina were all right, and turned the sound down.

Time to be…well, super, if not awesome. Time to clean.

* * *

The first night was the hardest. In the heat of battle, the thrill of the chase, Sarah Bartowski had been perfectly willing to hang back at the hotel and think evil thoughts while Agent Bartowski got the job done. Now there was no battle, no chase, and the softer side of Sarah was making her presence felt in a very firm way.

It wasn't late in Hawaii, but it was late in DC and that's where she belonged. _I wonder if Chuck's sleeping._ He'd better be, he had work tomorrow. Somehow she knew he wasn't though. The same subtle ache in her own bones that was keeping her up in spite of jet lag had to have its echo in him, didn't it?

Maybe it didn't. He'd had no trouble sleeping before he'd met her. He hadn't done things that forced him to relive them in his dreams, the way she had.

She could call, but it was stupid o'clock in the morning back home and she didn't want to wake him, not on a work day. He was getting few enough hours of sleep tonight as it was, but hopefully he took that nap like he said he would before she left.

The front door opened, and Anna stepped out onto the porch where Sarah waited for the extraction team, tucking in her shirt. "Thanks for taking first watch."

"No problem. Couldn't sleep anyway. At least two of us got some good use out of this downtime. Well, three if the sounds Carina made are any indication."

"Carina? She's asleep on the couch."

"So? Thin walls. Light sleeper. Pleasant dreams."

"Which is why you're out here on the porch."

"Pretty much. The noise wasn't too bad, but she…embellishes, and I didn't need to see the visuals. It's bad enough –"

Anna threw up her hands. "TMI."

"That's what _I_ thought."

"I _meant_ you."

"Oh. Sorry." She sighed. "I miss my husband."

"TMI!"

"Sorry."

Anna sat on another chair and looked out into the gloom for a while. "You know, I never really saw you and Chuck making a thing of it. No offense. Morgan was pulling for you from the beginning, of course."

"Not you? Why not?"

Anna shrugged. "You were too…flighty. Sure you got Chuck over Jill in a hurry, and thank you for that, by the way, but anybody could tell Chuck was destined for great things once that happened, and you just …I don't know…weren't. I mean, look at you: beautiful, blonde, in LA of all places, and you're working in a yogurt shop? What, did you think some producer was going to drive through Burbank one day and suddenly get thirsty?"

"…No."

"Because really, who does that? You need initiative to succeed in this world, Sarah, and you were one of the most anti-initiative girls I've ever met. And as long as you were around, Chuck was going to keep getting sucked into your evil orbit of loser-dom, no matter how many times I saw him try to climb out."

Sarah frowned. "This is your idea of 'no offense'?"

"Hey, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt here, Blondie. Everybody else thinks you're a hooker. So I just want to tell you, Sarah Walker Bartowski, that you'd better make yourself into something worthy of that man or so help me, I will come back from wherever they post me and kick your ass!"

Sarah nodded her head. "Message received."

Anna suddenly crumpled in her chair. "God, I hope that extraction team gets here soon, so I can get some drive-thru. I am starving and there's, like, no food in this place, unless you count Hot Pockets."

_Better than MRIs._ "They're okay in a pinch."

"Not for this girl," said Anna. "Real fighting trim requires real food."

Sarah stood up. "Sounds like I'll have to get my own Hot Pocket, then."

* * *

The first night was the hardest. Sure, she'd been to Hawaii before, but not this part of it, so she had no contacts, no one to call to keep a girl company in the middle of the night. Locked down in a safe house just meant the second night would be like the first, so hopefully this was the only night they'd be stuck in this tropical hellhole.

Blondie volunteered for first watch, so she claimed the couch for herself as the two lovebirds claimed the bedroom. Love_birds?_ Love-elephants, more like it. How could two such small people make so much noise?

Sarah started fidgeting again, and Carina decided to have a bit of fun with her. She rolled, she stretched, she twisted, all the while moaning and whimpering softly, until finally her victim got up and fled to the porch. Satisfied with her ploy, she rolled over one last time and drifted off. Soldiers on the battlefield could sleep through artillery barrages, and this was no different.

The absence of noise woke her, in time to hear the soft closing of the door as someone left the bedroom and crossed over to the front door. Anna, probably. Martin wasn't that light on his feet. Plus she could hear his snoring, cut off by the closing door.

The front door opened and closed, and she could hear their voices outside. Since she was a spy, as well as being incredibly nosy when she heard her own name mentioned, she rolled out of the couch and crept up to the window.

Hmm. She wasn't sure 'embellishment' was quite the right word for what she was doing, unless she was doing it wrong, but at least it got the job done. And now Sarah was going on about the husband and the missing again, and Carina was feeling all embarrassed, again.

It's all that damn Chuck's fault. First Sarah, then her. It's like he had some evil superpower.

And now _Anna's_ defending him! Against…Sarah? Oh my God. Ohmigodohmigodohmigod! She clapped her hands over her mouth, but sounds were coming out her nose and she couldn't stop that too. She crept back to the couch, stole a cushion and crept into the kitchen where she could laugh into it without being heard.

The door opened again and she stopped, trapped in the kitchen, hoping that whoever it was would just go to the bathroom.

No such luck. Sarah looked down at her friend, sitting on the floor with a cushion against her face. "I'm told there's Hot Pockets in the freezer."

Carina's eyes dropped from looking at her friend's face to looking at the cushion. She moved it away from her face, mouth working in disgust. "Y'know, that's good, cause these things taste terrible."

"Like you would know good taste."

Carina let that one slide. "What the hell was that?" she said, pointing towards the door.

"Exactly what it sounded like. I'm either a prostitute or a failed actress, it seems."

"You couldn't tell her about your rich father, and how you're trying to establish yourself out of his controlling and overbearing shadow?"

"I was going to use the spy story."

"Come on, Sarah, she _is_ an undercover spy, and even she wouldn't believe it."

"It would explain the Porsche."

"The _hooker_ story explains the Porsche."

Sarah sighed. "True. All it takes is enough money and no judgment whatsoever. Why don't _you_ own a Porsche?"

The door popped open and Anna rushed through the room. "Our ride's here, ladies. Time to blow this pineapple stand."

Carina looked at Sarah and mouthed, "Pineapple?"

Sarah shrugged. "It _is _Hawaii."

Anna came out of the bedroom with some cloth folded over her arm. "Here you go, ladies, a couple of robes for the trip, not sexy but they _are_ warm. Don't need things any nippier outside than they already are, if you catch my drift." Stuck in confined spaces for an indefinite time. With Morgan.

Sarah took the blue one, to no one's surprise. "What about our stuff at the hotel?" Because a real girl would ask that. The cover clothes had never been worn and the relay would self-destruct if not retrieved in time. With the Ring in town and their own mission blown, no one would bother.

"Buy new when we get there. I'll see if I can get it expensed. Oh, and by the way, definitely go with the rich dad story. I'd totally buy that."

"Thanks. I'm trying to achieve success on my own, independent of my rich and domineering father. I just want someone who loves me for me, you know?"

Anna adopted an expression of surprise. "Well, why didn't you say so?"

Sarah gave her a shy smile. "A girl's got to have _some_ secrets, doesn't she?"

* * *

**A/N2** I know Morgan didn't appear in this. Charlie never did either.


	2. Homeward Bound?

**A/N** It waited until chapter 2 to do it, but the story finally started talking to me. As always, no research was performed in the creation of this story. If you're looking for realism, accuracy, and verisimilitude, watch Covert Affairs.

And I just did the math! The five episodes of nine2five collectively have reached exactly 100 comments, which I think is pretty cool and thank you all very much! In theory these chapters could all be strung together in one giant story but the episodes have such different flavors to them that I prefer keeping them separate.

If I owned Chuck they'd have shown the Chuck movie at the wrap-up party.

* * *

"_I miss my husband."_

"_You were one of the most anti-initiative girls I've ever met."_

"_What the hell was that?"_

"_Time to blow this pineapple stand."_

* * *

Anna climbed into the minivan looking a bit unhappy. "That was weird."

Sarah and Carina were even less happy than she was at being relegated to the rear seats, furthest from the doors, but their covers as non-combatants made that the logical place for them to be, so they sucked it up. "What?" asked Sarah.

"There's a guy with a clipboard out there, he's got all our names on it and checked us all off—"

Perfection and Stampede shared a look. They were the extraction team for the Intersect Project. This group had to be an NSA team sent at Anna's original request, but then how did their names get on the list?

"—and then they put Morgan in a limo and stuck me back here with you two civilians! No offense."

Sarah and Carina looked at each other. "What's weird about that?"

"They said he was needed in Washington. Who needs Morgan anywhere? And they took my gun away. I hate playing babysitter but how am I supposed to do even that job right without my gun?" She crossed her arms and lowered her head, frowning, much like a baby that needed to be sat. "This sucks."

"Your weapon needs to be sanitized, Agent Ling," said the driver in a monotone. Not 'cleaned', Anna did that herself, but rendered untraceable."You'll be issued a replacement at the target site."

Sarah leaned forward. "Ling?"

"My cover name, Julie Ling."

"You don't look a bit like a Julie," said Carina.

"I didn't think so either, but who listens to the trainees."

The second agent got into the front passenger seat and the radio said something in static-ese, which must have been a signal of some kind as the cars started off back down the road in a close formation.

"Where are we going?" asked Sarah, knowing she was expected to ask, even though they wouldn't tell her.

"Agent Ling, control your guests."

"Where _are_ we going?"

"Target site is need to know, trainee."

Anna turned back to her 'guests'. "The radio doesn't reach past the other car and it's encrypted, and they still give us this need to know crap, like anyone's listening."

The earpieces in their ears came to life in their own bursts of static. "—is Graboid, please respond. Perfection and Stampede, this is Graboid, please respond."

Both ladies coughed at pretty much the same time.

Anna barely glanced. "Yeah, your legs do go on forever, don't they? Blankets under your seats."

Chuck ignored the comment, since he couldn't hear it anyway. "Piggybacking on the secure signal but it probably won't last. Be advised that evac is from a higher power, North Star got you added on, priorities remain the same. Acknowledge."

The ladies were spreading out the blankets they didn't need. "Great." "Thanks."

"We'll pick you up again en rou—" En route. Probably in the air.

So. Sanctioned by Beckman. That reduced the threat of betrayal to manageable levels.

* * *

They watched Anna walk away, or try to, as the plane they were on was made for carrying much heavier things than themselves and handled like a pig on roller skates. Morgan was kept up front, behind a curtain, where they'd heard him groaning loudly a couple of times and she wanted to find out why.

"I'm telling you, Blondie, it's creepy."

Blondie was watching the men in the bad suits situated all over the plane. "In what way?"

"Here we are, two hot babes in bikinis—"

"And scratchy blankets."

"Oh, is that why you decided to take it off and artfully re-drape it about your suddenly-revealed body? Because it itched?"

"The way you were wearing yours, it certainly wouldn't have been revealing much to take it off, now would it?"

"Well, you know, it's the old routine, good cop—"

"Undressed cop. Any eyes bug out?"

"'The way Chuck likes me', my ass. That's what was creepy. Even Casey's eyes…linger."

"He's just checking you for weapons."

"I know. But these guys, that's _all _they were doing. They're inhuman."

"What's the matter, afraid you can't do better?"

"Yes."

Sarah paused.

"This may come as a surprise to you, Blondie, but some of us, namely me, don't just flaunt my body in the line of duty. I don't think I need your SIL's medical degrees to know when people are not acting normally."

"On the other hand, they are NSA. Maybe they select for that."

"Now that _is_ creepy. I wouldn't think there's be this many men like that in the world and you're saying we got them all in one place?"

"Would you like me to interrogate one for you?"

"You'd do that for me?"

"Sure, but we have to choose carefully. I've only got one dose."

"Where the hell are you keeping it? Don't tell me, I don't want to know. You must be losing your touch if you need a truth serum on a man, even these mandroids." Carina got up and staggered over to the nearest male creature, much more unsteady on her feet than the turbulence would explain. Sarah watched as she practically fell over him, made a little small talk, apparently getting directions which she was careful to follow before staggering back.

"And?"

"His mother taught him to be very respectful of ladies, and the bathroom's back that way."

"I could have told you that."

"Could have told her what?" said Anna, stumbling back within earshot.

"The bathrooms are that way."

"Sure they are. You really should learn to pay more attention to your surroundings, Carina."

Carina nodded. "Yeah, I know. So how's Morgan?"

Anna frowned. "I saw him, but we didn't get a chance to talk. He was in his underwear. They're fitting him for a suit! All those groans we heard, they were stabbing him with pins whenever the plane shook. I'm sure he must have loved that, he stayed awake the entire flight to Hawaii, rooting for the plane to stay in the air. No wonder he was so pale."

"Pale?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, poor little baby hates to fly."

"Maybe when we land in LA he can get a walk on solid—"

"They're doing a midair refuel, no stopovers."

Sarah and Carina shared a look.

"Well," said Sarah.

Carina nodded. "That's…"

"Yeah, I know," said Anna, smiling brightly. "Isn't it _cool_?"

* * *

Sarah was catching up on some long-overdue sleep when Chuck finally called in. His voice saying, "Perfection, this is Graboid" woke her instantly, not that anyone else could have told. Most of them were doing what she was, sleeping, or pretending to. She rolled over, mumbling something.

"Yeah, I know," he said back. "I had to call in sick myself. Told them my frat-boy health-nut brother-in-law forced me to drink one of his protein shakes, and they believed me."

Sarah moaned her amusement.

"Okay now that's not fair. Either you're really asleep and having a really great dream, or you're trying to punish me for that kiss, and either way I really think I ought to be there."

Carina growled low in the back of her throat and turned her face towards her pillow, just in case.

"Fine, be that way. I just want to let you know when you touch down to expect some high up higher-ups. Morgan's getting a medal from the Costa Gravan premier, on live TV."

_So that's what this is all about!_ Sarah sniffed.

"We'll try to break you free of the circus. See you on the ground."

* * *

Touchdown woke them, but they stayed as they were until Anna came along and not-so-gently woke her 'sluggish' charges. "Okay, ladies, rise and shine. Stop soaking up everybody else's beauty sleep."

Carina stopped her with a sudden turn and lunge, which Anna easily blocked. "Sorry, I thought you were my last boyfriend for a second there."

"You wake up _mean_," said Anna in joy. "I like you."

"Great," muttered the redhead, staring at Anna's departing back, "She likes me."

"Must be all that initiative," said Sarah, and they both laughed.

As the put the robes and blankets back on, DC being a good bit 'nippier' than Hawaii, Anna came back with another woman. "Ladies, this is Agent Sydney Prince. We'll be leaving the plane from the other exit so Morgan can make his grand solo entrance for the cameras."

"Don't be bitter, Agent Ling," said Sydney in a sultry 'brunette skank' sort of voice, leading them to the midsection of the plane. "Sure it's unfair, but to the world at large it's best that he be the public face of your triumph. Agents avoid fame whenever possible." They went through the doorway and started to descend a mobile set of stairs. "Just know that we are aware of you and what you've done, where it matters."

"You are?"

"Absolutely," said Prince. "You had everyone convinced that a much more senior agent no one knew about must be on station. You can't imagine the surprise when we discovered that a mere trainee had accomplished so much. You'll go far, believe me."

"Wow, thanks."

"Miss Prince?"

"That's _Agent_ Prince, Mrs…" she checked her clipboard "Bartowski. What is it?"

"My husband works here in DC, If I could just borrow a phone I could call him and have him pick us up, save you the bother."

"Chuck works in DC?" asked Anna. "Doing what?"

"He's in…Maintenance."

"You turned the king of the Nerd Herd into a _janitor_? Way to urge him on, Sarah."

Prince seemed amused. "You know her?"

Anna sighed. "Her husband is Morgan's best friend. That's all I've ever wanted to know about her."

Prince smirked at them all. "My phone is in my car, Mrs. Bartowski. We'll get you right back to your husband."

As they approached her car, the rear of the plane started to drop. Cameras flashed as Morgan made his way in official splendor down the ramp, accompanied by men in suits and uniforms, absorbing his reflected fame.

"Is that a BlueTooth he's wearing?" said Anna. "What'd they give him that for?"

"It's a prop," said Prince, opening her car door and reaching inside. "Something for the security people to confiscate and feel better about themselves over. We injected a subdermal transceiver on the flight in case we had something he needed to hear."

"Needs to hear? What would he need to hear?"

Prince dropped the clipboard, to reveal her gun. "Just the sounds of you and your friends dying horribly, if he fails to follow our instructions exactly. Congratulations, Agent Wu, your boyfriend is going to assassinate the Costa Gravan premier on national television."

* * *

**A/N2** My thanks to those who've commented on my stories in this series so far. I'd like to continue thanking you.


	3. Charles In Charge

**A/N** It finally started talking to me and now it won't shut up. For those of you off on vaction before Labor Day, I'll probably have this episode finished before you get back. If you're looking for realism, accuracy, and verisimilitude, watch Burn Notice.

If I owned Chuck they'd have shown the Chuck movie at the wrap-up party.

* * *

"_Who needs Morgan anywhere? "_

"_We'll try to break you free of the circus."_

"_You turned the king of the Nerd Herd into a janitor."_

"_Your boyfriend is going to assassinate the Costa Gravan premier on national television."_

* * *

"General, we have a situation."

Beckman reached for the call button. "Report, Colo–"

Her smartphone buzzed. "General, we have a situation."

"Chuck? How did you get my private–"

"It wasn't easy. I had to route it through your home landline first. But, really, that's–"

"You called my _house_?"

"General, we're wasting time. The Ring is planning to assassinate Goya!"

The General sat still for a second, rerouting her thoughts. "And you know this how?"

"They told me." Over the intercom came the sound of women's voices. _"You're going to use Martin–"_

"_Morgan."_

"_Whatever."_

"_And make him kill that dictator guy?"_

Beckman turned to her speaker phone. "Did you catch that , Colonel?"

"It explains what I just saw. Sarah and Carina had their hands up by the SUV. Anna collapsed, and they were forced to load her into the car. I'm in pursuit but I could use some backup."

"Did you use one of the Spider-trackers?"

Casey's teeth ground together so loudly his earpiece picked it up. "Yes, I managed to successfully plant one of the tag rounds, in spite of the extreme distance."

"Then what are you worried about?"

"You ever heard of a second car, numb-nuts?"

"You just go ahead, don't mind me."

"I never did, moron."

Beckman ignored the by-play. Her smartphone was buzzing at her, with a text message. "General, we have a situation! Chuck's spiking!"

She spoke as she typed. "Everybody, conference call in 1 minute." The second they were all off line, she called her aide. "Call the phone company, have them change my home number."

One minute later…

"Alright, all of you. To summarize the situation, Sarah's extraction flight from Hawaii was infiltrated by Ring agents, who plan to somehow force Mr. Grimes to assassinate Premier Goya at the medal presentation. The three ladies on the flight with him have been kidnapped and will likely be used as hostages. Any thoughts?"

"Why all three?" asked Ellie.

"Anna criticized Sarah in front of the agent who kidnapped them," said Chuck, "So they know about her connection to Morgan, which makes her a second handle on him."

"And leaves Carina twisting in the wind," said Casey. "If they get rid of any of them, they'll start with her, even if it's just to prove a point."

"We don't have much time, the ceremony is in a few hours. Premier Goya is understandably paranoid about being on U.S. soil."

Casey grunted a happy grunt.

"The clock is ticking, gentlemen. Ellie, I want you to give Chuck the full upload immediately."

"General, do you think that'll help? What could be in the Intersect about this?"

Beckman pursed her lips. "Maybe nothing, Chuck, but between you and the Intersect I'm not assuming anything. But you're right, a little insurance couldn't hurt. Colonel, can you get your team together? I have to make a call."

* * *

"You two, grab her, into the other car."

Carina grabbed Anna's feet. "Where are you taking us?"

Prince looked at the redhead with utter scorn. "You know, considering that you're by far the most expendable of your ridiculous crew, you might want to keep your mouth shut."

Considering that the odds were stacked against them , both in numbers and weapons, Carina decided to keep her mouth shut. It was a long shot anyway. Even if the Ice Queen had said anything, they were probably out of range of anything that Chuck could get a signal from, and she was starting to think he could get a signal from a bran muffin. They had to make a move, the second this hit was done they were dead themselves. As before, they sat her up in the middle of the back seat, head drooping.

Prince gestured imperiously at her henchmen. "Give them your cuffs." Turning to her prisoners, she said, "I'm going to do one nice thing today, and that's let you cuff yourselves. If you give me any trouble I'll let my guys handle it in the future. Got it?"

Sarah and Carina both recognized the ploy, but went along with it as their roles said they should. They cuffed themselves, snug but not tight, since sure enough she checked. "Good girls. In you go."  
Anna made a noise as the climbed awkwardly into the oversized vehicle.

"Goddammit. Zip her, will you, Ian?"

The designated henchman reached over Carina and pushed Anna forward, where she stopped only because her head hit the seat. Pulling her hands behind her he zipped them in a plastic cable tie with casual brutality and pulled her upright again. The bad guys buckled themselves in and they drove away.

Carina noticed but didn't watch as Sarah slowly pulled one hand out from behind her and started doing something to Anna's bonds. No sense drawing attention to anything.

* * *

Immediately couldn't come soon enough for Chuck. Every second of delay gnawed at him. Ellie wanted him to take a rest break after she removed the smaller Intersect but even she cut a few corners in times of need. Chuck hadn't shown many ill effects from any of the downloads and it would take her a few minutes to set up a full upload anyway. "Can't this thing go any faster?"

"Chuck, you know better than I do just how fast this thing is," replied Ellie abstractedly over the speaker.  
"The data has to be encrypted fresh each time, as I adjust the algorithms, but that's all I know about it."

_It takes as long as it takes._ Never had that knowledge, that the electronics didn't care, grate at him so much. "Can we get a treadmill in here, or something? I could really use something to do right now."

"You can't get it right now, Chuck," she reminded him distantly, watching three screens at the same time. "There's no time now, and once you're loaded up the door seals until it's out again, you know that."

"Yeah, I know that. But there's always tomorrow's disaster to plan for."

"Fine, then we'll get you tomorrow's treadmill to plan for it."

"It feels good to have a plan."

"It'll feel better to have Sarah back. Are you ready? The program's ready."

"I'm more than ready, sis. I'm waiting and I'm even eager." He shook his head. "God, who'd've thought I'd ever be eager for this?"

"Upload initiated."

The screens started to flicker, a display that Chuck always felt was more for special effects than anything else. Certainly the data didn't seem any different depending on the screens he looked at, and it wasn't like he could look at _all_ of them. Maybe Ellie knew the reason for it, if there was one.

Today Chuck cared even less than usual. He kept his eyes wide open. He couldn't get the data in fast enough. Slowly he turned, looking at every screen. Somewhere on one of them was the answer they needed. _Time…to…man…up._

* * *

"How long until Chuck is ready to join us, Dr. Woodcombe?"

"He's ready now, General. He's resting but as long as he's not required to flash immediately he can listen in with no problems."

"Good. Chuck?"

"Yes?" he said with a groan.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and suppose that you've read the manual for all the equipment in the room with you."

He laughed, which she took for a yes.

"On the microphone output there's a distortion function. When the conference begins I'll need you to turn it on. Not everyone will be cleared for your identity."

"Very good."

"Colonel Casey, what's your status?"

"We're good to go."

Someone knocked on her door. "Come." When she saw who it was she sent out the same text as before.

One minute later…

"Gentlemen, and Dr. Woodcombe, in the room with me is Agent Daniel Shaw of the CIA. Over the last five years he's become the CIA's leading expert on Ring strategies and organization. Since this operation is too new to be in most recent data, as was pointed out, I felt it best to have someone on hand who could provide analysis on the fly. Agent Shaw, on the phone we have Colonel John Casey of the United States Marines and the NSA."

"Agent Shaw." Casey sounded unimpressed, but then Shaw was CIA.

"Colonel Casey was on the ground when the abduction took place and has been coordinating offensive operations. As well we have Dr. Eleanor Woodcombe, head researcher of the Intersect Project."

"Agent."

His eyebrows rose at the sound of her voice. "The Intersect Project? I've heard of it but I thought it was destroyed." His voice was pleasant enough, bland, unemotional. Passionless.

"Anything they want destroyed so badly is worth keeping. Dr. Woodcombe is here as an observer." Of what or whom, Beckman didn't say.

Shaw's eyes moved to look at the far end of her desk, where a larger monitor was set up. "And who is this, may I ask?"

Beckman didn't like looking at the screen, so she didn't much, preferring to look at her guest. The screen was mostly dark, with a vague simulation of a face rendered in purple pixels, which somehow failed to keep track of movement in real time, smearing and blurring the face whenever the man moved. He wore a hat, it seemed, and a pair of sunglasses. "You may ask, Agent Shaw, but I can't tell you. The identity of this man is one of the most closely guarded secrets in the world."

"Does the mystery man have a name, at least?"

"My name, Agent Shaw, is Charles Carmichael, and this is my operation henceforth."

Agent Shaw abandoned his casual pose, not because of the name but because of the voice, powerful, confident, aware of what its owner could do. The name had become legendary, but the legends are easy to construct. That voice was the real thing. That voice was…doom to his enemies, and Shaw was very glad they were on the same side.

"With your permission, General?" The voice was not distorted, but Beckman could not have identified it as the voice of Charles Bartowski.

Shaw looked at the General, wondering if she could or would say no to that voice, deny the claim it had already made. She looked as if the only thing keeping her upright was the starch in her uniform. "Of course, Agent Carmichael," she mumbled, "Carry on."

"Colonel Casey, congratulations on your promotion."

Casey took a moment to respond. "Thanks…Mad Dog."

Shaw mouthed _Mad Dog?_ at Beckman, but she just spread her hands.

"What's the latest on your end?"

"We tracked the original SUV to a CIA motor pool. It was clean, of course. Given the location and the timing, we're convinced they have the hostages in the city somewhere, so I've prepared an incursion team with a variety of assault scenarios depending on the actual building."

"Excellent. Agent Shaw, proceed to Colonel Casey's location. I want you available to provide analysis on site. Colonel, when Agent Shaw arrives, you will relinquish command of your unit to your SIC and proceed to the ceremony site."

Casey managed to restrict his question to a mildly guttural, "Why?" He was looking forward to the shooting.

"I need a sniper, Colonel, and I know you can get the job done."

"You want me to take out Grimes?"

"Not at all, Colonel. I want you to take out Goya. The only way we can keep him from being assassinated is if we kill him ourselves."

* * *

**A/N2** My thanks to those who've commented on my stories in this series so far. I'd like to continue thanking you.


	4. Time to Kill

**A/N** If you're looking for realism, accuracy, and verisimilitude, watch…um…some other spy show.

If I owned Chuck they'd have shown the Chuck movie on USA Network every other weekend.

* * *

"_General, we have a situation."_

"_I have to make a call."_

"_My name, Agent Shaw, is Charles Carmichael, and this is my operation."_

"_The only way we can keep him from being assassinated is if we kill him ourselves."_

* * *

Daniel Shaw drove like the wind to meet up with Casey's team, wondering at his own sanity. He'd abandoned his mission, abandoned _her_, at the drop of a word from a pixilated image on a screen. He had no business saving women, he'd failed at that already.

His phone rang. "Shaw secure."

"Carmichael secure. What's your status, Agent Shaw?"

"I'm a few minutes away from Casey's location."

"Very good," said Carmichael, more acknowledgement than praise. "I expect to receive an incursion target shortly."

"Don't worry, Agent Carmichael, we'll get your ladies back for you."

Carmichael chuckled. "That is not my concern. I expect them to leave you with little to do on that score. There will be wreckage, Daniel, and I expect you to salvage all that can be salvaged from it, primarily useful intel and our strike team's lives."

"What about the Ring agents?"

"I think we can safely say that they've brought this upon themselves. Carmichael out."

Shaw smiled, now that the safety of others was off the table. He'd done the recon, he'd done the analysis, it was time to get back in the game. Foil one of the Ring's schemes? He could do that. _It's a beginning. _If he could get Carmichael on board it might even be the end.

* * *

"Dirtnap, what's your status?"

"Almost at the ceremony site now, Mad Dog. Sh-uh, Stoneface was in the van when I left."

"Very good. I expect Perfection to signal me her location soon."

"How? Run her bikini up the flagpole?"

Carmichael laughed. "Nothing so risqué, Colonel, although it would get people's attention. She's got FRODO with her, that should be more than enough."

"Frodo, that little dwarf guy?"

"Hobbit. And no. FRODO is a little toolkit I dreamed up. Nothing fancy, but what spy wants to be fancy? It includes a homing beacon."

Sometimes Casey was glad Chuck was such a nerd. This was one of those times. "I've got Vera ready and waiting."

"I should have known you'd name your guns, Dirtnap."

"You named your gizmos."

"Touche."

Casey had to ask. "Graboid, are you still there?"

"Graboid will come home when his wife comes home, Dirtnap," said Mad Dog. "I promise. Proceed as planned. Mad Dog out."

* * *

"You two, in there."

"I'm going, I'm going! You don't have to push. Geez!"

"Don't you ever shut up?" asked Ian. His boss was off supervising the containment of the NSA whiz kid, leaving him with these two…bimbos.

"Not that I've noticed," muttered Sarah.

He had a handkerchief and a necktie, but Prince would hurt him if he even thought about it. "Sit."

"Ah! Cold, cold."

"Be quiet." He knelt behind them, fastening short chains to the cuffs they wore.

"You try sitting on a metal chair in your underwear!"

He clicked her cuffs a notch tighter. "Be. Quiet."

"Being quiet now."

"About time." He adjusted the blankets, making sure they were covered up, because Prince would hurt him if he didn't. Then he left.

"You think I convinced him?"

"That you're a ditzy redheaded flake? Yeah, I think you convinced him."

"That I'm harmless, Blondie, and so are you."

"I noticed you taking one for the team by flirting with the cute enemy agent, and I will so note it in my report."

"Don't feel you have to, not if you're going to put it that way. These cuffs are tight! Can you do that thing you did in the car and loosen 'em up a bit, pretty please?"

"I could but I won't. He may come back and check. Now, at the risk of sounding like an enemy spy, be quiet. I'm counting."

* * *

Alejandro Fulgencio Goya sat uncomfortably in the elegantly appointed dressing room of the small presentation hall offered for his use, getting made up for the presentation. Costa Gravas wasn't exactly a friendly nation, but it was small, and this place was the best he could get in the calculus of political advantage. He had a safe conduct, and he had his guards, but sometimes even that didn't feel like enough.

"Excellency, we have captured an American spy."

This was one of those times. "Is he secured?"

The guard nodded. "In the Lombardi room."

Goya frowned. Stupid American names. "I will see him now."The presentation would be soon and he did not need this little detail hanging over his head. Plus he was bored.

The guard opened the door and he stopped, shocked. Colonel John Casey sat, cuffed and secured to one of the flimsy chairs the room offered, with multiple guards. "The Angel de la Muerte. And in violation of your own country's safe conduct. I wonder, Colonel Casey, which would be better, to let your country execute you for treason, or take you back and execute you myself for espionage."

Casey smiled.

* * *

As expected, Ian came back and made sure that Carina's hands were turning red from the tight cuffs. He snorted with amusement and left them again.

"That was what," asked Sarah, "About 10 minutes?" She moved her fingers, activating Chuck's beacon.

"About that. Cuffs now, please."

"Sure." With miraculous ease, Sarah released herself from the cuffs and knelt behind Carina, loosening the cuffs by one notch.

"Walker! What the hell?"

"This is no time for improvising. I've got a plan." She walked away and ignored her friend's rather inventive curses as she knelt at the lock and worked it open. Carina shut up instantly, of course, and Sarah blew her a kiss as she let herself out.

Carina sat there, grumbling to herself and flexing her fingers. They'd gotten all stiff from the lack of blood flow earlier and she realized she wouldn't have been of much use anyway, whatever Walker's plan was.

* * *

Shaw's phone buzzed, a text message with just a location. "Captain!"

* * *

Sarah moved quickly down the hall, towards the little closet where one of Prince's other henchmen carried Anna's bag while Ian took care of them. This lock was even easier to pick and she soon had Anna's sticks, knife, and other things back where they belonged. She closed the door and ran down to the other room, where Anna herself had been stashed. She only opened that door enough to toss the bag on the table, and then she closed the door behind her with a thump.

* * *

Anna woke at the noise, but didn't move or betray that fact in any way as she took stock of her situation. No one seemed to be around, so she flexed her legs and arms. Her ankles were pretty tight, but her wrists…she twisted her arms and there was more give. Back and forth, forth and back, and soon the ties on her wrists gave way with a snap. Rolling over, she looked at the room, looking for something to free her legs with, and spotted her bag. She hopped over and checked the contents, and found her knife.

* * *

Sarah snuck back into their room, closing and locking the door as Carina watched in silence. "Have fun with your little plan?"

Sarah put the cuffs on the chair, draped the blanket around her appropriately and sat, putting the cuffs back on. "Oh, yes. A little shopping, visiting with friends, a phone call or two. Did you miss me?"

"Why would I miss you? Friends like you, I'm better off alone."

"Like you would ever be alone longer than you could help it."

"That's true. You're lucky you got back before Ian."

"I'd think even you would hesitate at Ian," said Sarah, as the door rattled.

"Why? He's single."

"Oh, like that makes a difference all of a sudden?" Ian walked in as her voice rose. "Suddenly you've grown some scruples since trying to seduce my husband?"

"I did not try to seduce your husband!"

"I can see where you wouldn't want to remember it. 'Try' is the right word, I know you didn't bloody well succeed."

"Is that a dare?"

Ian's radio spoke at him, and he turned away gratefully. "Ian, grab that NSA bitch and bring her up here. The show's starting."

"Thank God." He walked away, locking the door.

Sarah waited a few moments, and was rewarded by a low thump. "I think Ian's just met Anna."

A few moments later, someone tried the doorknob. "Ladies, you in there?"

"Yes, get us out of here!" called Carina.

"You're safer where you are," said Anna. "These idiots left my gear out in plain sight! `I'll be right back."

"Bitch."

"She's right," said Sarah, freeing herself again. "You're just upset because you haven't killed anyone this whole mission." She knelt and released Carina.

"How do you do that? You don't have a thing on you that isn't cloth!"

Sarah held up her hands. "Graboid calls it FRODO. It's supposed to be an acronym but I think he made it up after the fact. It's a bunch of fake fingernails with all sorts of useful stuff attached."

"Like what?"

"Handcuff key, for one." With a flick of her finger, she flipped it out and then back again. "And the razor I weakened Anna's bonds with. Lockpicks, truth serum. Homing beacon."

"Crap, when?"

"My last walkabout."

* * *

"Avoid the front, that's where the traps will be," said Shaw. "Make your entrances here, here, and here. I'll take the exit tunnel."

"How do you know there's an exit tunnel?"

"This is the Ring. There's always an exit tunnel, Captain."

* * *

"We've got to get out of here, they'll be coming through the door any second."

"Got it covered." Sarah peeled her two smallest nails off and stuck them together, shoving the wafer into the door lock.

"Keyhole bomb?"

The lock blew out. "Yep."

* * *

"What the hell was that?" yelled Prince. "I thought the rear was secure. All our traps are at the front."

"The rear is secure, ma'am."

"Then you shouldn't have any problem checking it out, do you, George? Go."

* * *

Carina led the way out the door, on alert for stray guards. "Nice. Why not pick the lock?"

"They're not the most durable lock picks I've ever worked with."

"Can I get a set of the mark 2's?"

"I'll ask Chuck to make a set with condoms."

"Nice."

They turned a corner and stumbled into the crumpled, weaponless body of George. "That bitch Anna. She's not saving any for me."

Sarah rolled her eyes, and pulled a ring off her right hand. "Here."

"What?"

"Part of the set. Nine fingers and the ring of doom!" Sarah make a pinch-and-toss motion with one hand. "Go make _boom!_ somewhere."

"Holy crap," said Carina, looking at the ring warily before slipping it onto her finger. "You always walk around with explosives on your hands?"

"That's what the tenth finger is for, so I can press an elevator button and not blow myself up."

* * *

Premier Goya took the stage, to a polite scattering of applause. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are gathered here today to honor a great man…"

The man looking at him through the sniper scope tuned out the words, uninterested in great deeds or valiant rescues. He had a job to do. The temptation to just pull the trigger now was strong, but his orders were explicit and he always obeyed orders.

Goya held out a hand, and a velvet-covered box was placed into it. "It is my honor, to present this Medal of Valor, Costa Gravas' highest civilian honor, to Senor Morgan Grimes." He turned to the guest of honor, sitting on the other side of the stage.

* * *

"Remember, Grimes," said Prince, "Wipe your hands on your pants like you're nervous. Get that wax off the needle."

* * *

Morgan wiped his hands against his pants and stood, turning to approach the dictator.

The sniper flexed his finger. _Now._

A small _bang_!, and Goya's chest spurted blood and he fell back, toppling the podium in his fall. The audience sat paralyzed at the sudden fall, guards and guests on stage equally paralyzed that someone struck their leader down within their very ranks.

* * *

Prince stared at the wreckage, her goal but not her plan. "Goddammit! Abort, abort!"

* * *

Only one man moved, his gun coming up on Morgan Grimes, who hadn't moved, ready to clean up that loose end for his leader.

Casey fired, and the assassin's assassin fell.

* * *

Three separate holes blew in the walls.

"Come on, Blondie! Before the cavalry arrives and I don't get to kill anyone." The sound of gunfire came from up ahead, several short, controlled bursts. "They got here fast!"

"That's not them," said Sarah. "That's Anna."

Shaw's head emerged from the hatch of the exit tunnel.

Someone tall flung themselves through the doorway.

"And that's Prince," said Carina.

Sydney Prince sacrificed her men to save herself, running towards the two unarmed women blocking her way to the emergency exit. No time for hostages, just kill them.

She raised her gun.

Someone large and strong grabbed Sarah from behind and spun her around as Prince fired. The impact on his shoulder spun him around further and he fell on his back, Sarah on top of him. She looked up and watched as Carina stepped back and let the Ring agent run by and leap into the open tunnel hatch. "She's getting away!"

The hatch belched out smoke and flame, and lots of dust.

Carina held up her bare hand. "No, she's not."

* * *

Casey masked his face and mounted the stage, ignoring the ruckus from the floor. He walked over to the body of the fallen dictator. "Well played, Excellency. You are indeed a man of action. I got your traitor."

Goya opened his eyes and looked up. Several of his men hurried to assist him to his feet. "And you, Colonel Casey, are a man of your word. I hope that this is the last time you 'assassinate' me."

"I think I got it out of my system now. Hopefully this is the last we'll see of each other."

* * *

Sarah and Carina sat comfortably under Anna's watchful eye as emergency personnel dealt with the fire and the wreckage. All were waiting, but for different things. Anna in particular couldn't wait to get rid of her charges. The shock of the events had left them hopeless wrecks, muttering to voices only they could hear. It was creepy.

As the paramedics brought out the stretcher with Shaw on it, Sarah and Carina rose and moved forward. Anna would have gone with them but a secure call on her cell phone stopped her. "Agent Ling, I am General Diane Beckman of the NSA. Report to my office immediately for debriefing."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I understand Agent Shaw was wounded, so acquire his vehicle for the purpose."

"Yes, ma'am. What do I do with the two ladies?"

Beckman sighed. "Agent Ling, we are not a taxi service. However, since the airport is on your way I suppose you may make a detour and return them to their own vehicle. Beckman out."

* * *

Shaw vaguely remembered the two women as they approached.

"Agent Shaw, you saved my life in there. I want to tell you personally how grateful I am. I hope you recover soon."

The wound was minor, but painful. He was glad of that pain. It was the first thing he'd felt in a long time. He would have felt more but he noticed her rings. "You're most welcome, Mrs…?"

The blonde smiled. "Carmichael, Agent Shaw. Sarah Carmichael."

* * *

**A/N2** FRODO = Fingertip Resources and Other Diabolical Oddments.


End file.
